Darcy listened as his betrothed comforted her elder sister, but he knew in his heart that Miss Bennet was correct. She had shown courage in offering to meet the challenge of caring for her young brother, and would probably make Bingley a very good wife. But Elizabethwasthe best of them all—himself included.
“If your sister was not such a feather-head, we would not be in this bind,” Henry Philips muttered, pacing back and forth across Longbourn’s empty dining parlour.
Begonia looked askance at her husband. “You were the one who lost your temper. I told you not to criticise the girls outright. You know Fanny cannot stand to hear a word againstany of them, except maybe Lizzy—but even so, you have to tread carefully. Did you? No, you did not.”
“And I toldyouthat we should never have allowed Lizzy to take the boy from Longbourn.”
“Hah! Goulding was so angry with you for hitting the child that he nearly hadusremoved from Longbourn.”
“I did not hurt him much,” Henry said sullenly.
“I do not blame you for your frustration, dearest,” Begonia said, changing tack. “But the pickle is, Mr Darcy has seen that the idiot is ripe for the plucking. Mark my words, he cares nothing about Lizzy—he has seen that the one who influences Neddy, keeps Longbourn. I do not know how Mr Darcy got to her, but he did, and if he marries her, he will control the child’s property. We ought to have gone to Chancery sooner, as soon as Goulding fell ill.”
“Had you not spent so much on new wardrobes for yourself and Fanny and her thankless daughter, perhaps we could have,” Henry spat resentfully.
“So says the man wearing a coat by Weston,” Begonia retorted. “Let us not waste time casting blame.”
“What can we do?” Henry whined. “Darcy has the money to hire solicitors for his solicitors! Fighting him in Chancery will bankrupt us!”
“Ah, but we have what he does not—the boy’s mother. It ought not to be too difficult for the Court to see as we do—that Mr Darcy is ripping a boy from his mother’s arms in order to take an idiot’s property. We still have the support of the Lucases, to witness for us.”
“Goulding and his ilk will side with Darcy.”
“A bunch of wealthy, spoiled, power-hungry louts. I have faith in my sister. We shall write to the papers, and talk to anyone whowill listen. Take my word for it—we shall win the court of public opinion, and make such a stink that no judge in the land will dare seize her poor, helpless child, for fear of revolt of the populace.”
For the first time in hours, Henry Philips smiled.
Mrs Hill, sitting unnoticed in the pantry polishing the silver, did not.
Thirty-Nine
TIME TO TAKE SIDES
Darcy left for the five-mile journey to St Albans quite early, his intent to return to Netherfield as soon as was possible. His errand there quickly accomplished, he was pulling up in his carriage before the noon hour, and had barely entered the house when he was approached by Mrs Nicholls, the housekeeper.
“Excuse me, sir, but Mr Hill of Longbourn has been waiting all morning on your return. I offered to send a messenger to Longbourn once you came back, as no one could say when it would be, but the man said he would wait.”
Darcy could not prevent his alarm at this news. Mr Hill was clearly not the sort who spent much time lounging about, looking for excuses to cool his heels.
“Where is he? I will speak to him at once.”
“He was waiting at the stables. I am certain he has heard of your return already; I will send a servant to bring him to the house.”
“Never mind that. I will go to him myself. Thank you.”
Darcy stalked out of the house, leaving Mrs Nicholls staring after him.
He found Mr Hill already making his way towards the main house; they met on the gravelled path between it and the stables.
“You were looking for me?” Darcy asked.
The other man nodded. It did not take him many words to summarise the nefarious plans of Mr and Mrs Philips. “Philips, he and his wife intend to take Mrs Bennet and leave tomorrow for London. I suppose they mean to find lawyers and reporters to listen to them. I expect once he drags your name and your family into it, he will find both.”
Darcy was filled with a cold fury. How dare the despicable creature use him and Elizabeth in this disgusting, vile manner? He could imagine how his enemies, George Wickham being chief amongst them, would exploit the opportunity to further degrade him and to spread more lies. So few cared about truth when sensationalism sold newspapers.
It had to be stopped before it reached that point.
“I will see that it does not go so far as that,” Darcy vowed. “Can you bring Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth, and Edward to Netherfield? We will need their help.”
